


i'd tell me (run)

by independentalto



Series: (all that i can hear is) a simple song [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, basically it's a character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:48:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22156558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/independentalto/pseuds/independentalto
Summary: Sometimes, Hunter wishes he had a time machine.
Relationships: Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse
Series: (all that i can hear is) a simple song [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594819
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	i'd tell me (run)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Ingrid Michaelson's "Time Machine".

Hunter supposed that the one good thing about having been in the Framework was that everything had been electronically controlled. Although he highly doubted the murderous robot-turned-slightly-human would’ve paid specific attention to his case, he still fancied the idea that he could manipulate the outcomes of his life. He definitely would’ve asked to change some things – maybe Man United would’ve won the last football match instead of losing to Chelsea. Someone would have assassinated Margaret Thatcher. No Transformers sequels for sure.

But at this very moment, had Hunter been given the chance to change anything at all, he would’ve gone back to a certain pier overlooking the Outer Banks, tackled his former self and loudly berated him for even considering thinking about the blonde goddess that was standing at the end of the pier. Because all it would lead to would be this moment, the two of them standing off face-to-face in the Playground’s garage, words thrown haphazardly into a pile and set on fire. And as unfortunate as it was, this was real life.

Arguing with Bobbi was like opening up a large can of propane over a freshly cut pile of wood. She was all fire, her arguments catching faster and faster as the facts began to piece themselves together. They should have never been in an enclosed environment to begin with. But then again, you couldn’t really control nature, could you?

Foolish of him, really, to think that he could have changed its course.

Hunter had never considered himself truly confrontational. But that was the price of loving Bobbi, he surmised. Not only did she have the extraordinary gift of setting fires, she had the habit of making sure there was no way they could be put out while she was around. And when she was done burning through the oxygen in the room, she stamped on the flames, leaving the room (and Hunter) empty.

So he brought fire to the fire.

The words Bobbi would so carelessly pile aside were scooped up before she could retrieve them, thrown onto a fire of Hunter’s own making and roared into her space. Suddenly there were two loud voices filling the room, each of them fighting for the lion’s share of its oxygen. Whatever she would give, he would give right back, a fact that often drove her up the wall. He didn’t mind, though – she’d made the bed, now she had to sleep in it.

And in his own, sad way, so did he: together, they were a toxic force that swallowed everything in the room, but apart, they were no more than two strong magnets struggling to come back together. Oh, they tried to stay apart. They did. But the laws of magnetism consistently stayed true – the further apart they were, the harder the collision when they came back together.

It’s one of the things he truly regrets – not for total malice towards Bobbi (although there is a fair amount of it, on the surface), but having caused the both of them so much pain. He knows that she’s just as hurt as he is at the end of their arguments, and if given the chance to rewind their timeline like a movie scene, he would do it in a heartbeat.

It’s why, when there’s a chance to test an 084 that might possibly moonlight as a time machine, Hunter’s hand is the first in the air. And as soon as the salt from the sea hits his nostrils, he strides right up to his younger self, taps him on the shoulder, and whispers one word:

“Run.”


End file.
